


Touches

by chailattemusings



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M, One-Sided Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 03:57:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chailattemusings/pseuds/chailattemusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin loves it when Geoff touches him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touches

A little Geoff/Gavin fic I had to get out of my head.

SFW, fluff, slight angst, 2100 words. 

—

Out of everyone in the office, Gavin was the one who most loved touching Geoff, and receiving any sort of touch from him. He was known for repeatedly climbing on him, giving him surprise hugs, and generally being an arse while reveling in the feel of skin to skin contact.

In return Geoff rustled his hair and slapped his back, too manly to do anything more until they got home, where they curled on the couch playing games together. Gavin acted as a son might, asking for attention and whining when Geoff said he was too busy. And whenever someone, usually Jack, pointed out the unhealthy attachment, Gavin merely grinned. They had a connection difficult for anyone to describe, both family and not at the same time.

But the kind of touch Gavin wanted most, he couldn’t have. Every night, be it at ten o clock or two AM, Geoff announced he was tired and going to bed and, unless held up by some art project, Griffon would slide off her chair and join him, holding his hand all the way to the bedroom. And Gavin would be left alone on the couch, dreading another night by himself in his bed.

They napped together sometimes. That was the closest Gavin got to Geoff while sleeping, his warm chest rising and falling with steady breaths, heartbeat slow and soothing. It wasn’t the same, though. Gavin wanted to be the one curling around Geoff in his king sized bed, tangled in blankets and pajamas, feeling his chin rest on top of his head. That honor belonged to Griffon, his empress, the mother of his child. Gavin understood better than anyone how much Geoff loved his wife, and it pained him more than any trouble he experienced in life before.

But he couldn’t distance himself from the situation, living with them anytime he wasn’t in England, so Gavin kept his lips tight and his smile big. He played with Millie and modeled for Griffon, took the brunt of Geoff’s jokes, and worked hard at Rooster Teeth. His days were simple and fun, at the job he loved most with the people he loved most. The sting in his heart anytime Griffon and Geoff shared an intimate kiss or danced in the kitchen without music was worth it.

What made it worse was, Gavin couldn’t even hate Griffon for it. She mothered and fussed, making sure he ate properly and didn’t drink himself into a stupor. Even after she left Rooster Teeth for her own independent work, she came by the office to check on Gavin and Geoff, tutting them for working too hard or too little. A beacon of light wherever problems arose.

Gavin told himself that was why he kept silent, as he resisted sighing into Geoff’s hand when he brushed it lazily over his head or smiling like a lovestruck girl when he allowed Gavin the privilege of sitting in his lap. In truth, Gavin’s selfishness might override his desire for the Ramseys to stay happy, were he not painfully shy. Even drunk, he didn’t have the courage to tell Geoff anything.

In this dangerous fashion, Gavin snuck in any type of attention he could get from Geoff.

“It hurts,” he whined, one afternoon, after a risky prank on Michael. He was splayed face down on the couch, head raised on a pillow and lower back throbbing.

“Well, what did you think would happen?” Geoff said from the armchair. “You mess with a man’s coffee, you get dumped. Besides, it’s not like it isn’t the first time.”

Through the pain, Gavin snickered. Adding a tablespoon of salt to Michael’s drink earned him a flip to the bottom of his chair. It had to be the fourth or fifth such spill, but this time he hit his tailbone on a wayward controller laying on the floor, breaking the plastic casing on the device and leaving a painful bruise. Sitting through the rest of the work day was agony and Gavin commandeered the couch the minute they got home.

“Still hurts,” he said, reaching back to rub the sore spot. Pain flared under his skin and Gavin hissed. “Geoff,” he whined again. “Kiss it better.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right. You’re fine, stupid.”

“Geoff!” Gavin flipped on his back and looked forlornly at him. “Why won’t you help me in my time of need?”

“I’m not getting that close to your waistband,” Geoff shot back. “Deal with it.”

Just then, Griffon popped in the living room with an ice pack. “Here, sweetie.” She held it up and waited for Gavin to turn back on his stomach before lifting his shirt and gently situating the plastic on his spine. Gavin flinched, and sighed with relief.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” She straightened, and glared at Geoff. “Why do you let this happen to him?”

“It was his fucking fault!” Geoff smacked the chair’s upholstery. “He pulled another stupid prank!”

“And who dropped the controller he landed on?” Griffon raised an eyebrow, challenging her husband to tell her she was in the wrong.

The bearded man sighed at that, sinking in his chair. “Whatever, I don’t have to be ganged up on in my own house. I need a drink.”

Griffon rolled her eyes and flashed Gavin a sweet smile. “Holler if you need anything.”

Gavin nodded confirmation and watched her leave with his limited vision. Face down against the couch arm, he couldn’t see much. He focused on the ice pack and its soothing abilities, eyes closed. He drifted into a light doze, not seeing or hearing it when Geoff returned to his chair with a beer in hand.

A shift of weight and lift of his legs woke him. Beer now half empty, Geoff had moved to the couch, Gavin’s legs on his lap. The television was on and he watched it while idly rubbing circles into the Brit’s calves. The contact made him hum in appreciation.

“My back still hurts,” he said for the third time.

“Got it.” Geoff didn’t stop his circling.

“Massage it for me.”

“Fat chance.”

“ _Ge_ off.” Gavin wiggled his rear. “Please?”

He looked at the Brit with narrow eyes. “You’re like a needy puppy, Christ. Fine, move the ice pack.”

Gavin obeyed with glee, shifting down so the bottoms of his feet hit the other end of the couch and his upper thighs were on Geoff, his wound considerably closer. Geoff kept his eyes on the TV while he put his right hand on his spine and gently prodded. Gavin clenched his teeth and held back a hiss. The pain was worth it for one of Geoff’s rare massages.

Eventually, the stinging in his bruise ebbed, Geoff working his fingers into the skin. Gavin put his face on his arms, hands crossed and clenching either side of his pillow in alternating grips of pain and pleasure. As the older man continued to work his fingers in a way that had Gavin questioning if Griffon instructed him until he got the perfect technique, he let his mind wander, and his thoughts inevitably settled on what that hand might feel like massaging other places.

His neck, for starters. Everyone in their office got stiff necks from time to time; it came with sitting at desks all day. Geoff could rub the back of his neck and knead the muscles with just enough force to free them of tension, thumbs pressing into his vertebrae.

The hands would move lower, to his shoulders. Gavin’s imagination had him shirtless now, skin free for Geoff to work his magic on. Pressing and rubbing pleasantly, commenting on how Gavin should relax more, and he would be there if Gavin ever needed help unwinding.

And those hands would trail to where Geoff was working now, his tailbone, on a day when he didn’t have a bruise there and he could fully enjoy the sensation of the calloused fingers. An eternity would pass, Geoff teasing and smiling while Gavin keened and begged him to go lower, and finally get beneath the waistband of his pants, massaging his ass and telling Gavin how perfect he thought it looked, how he wanted nothing but to grab hold of it and never let go …

“Gav?”

He froze. Geoff had stopped massaging, had taken his hand away. Gavin risked a look behind him and saw confusion. “You, ah, you okay?” Geoff glanced at his body, back to his face. “You were rubbing your hips in the cushion. Was I hurting you or were you just frotting with my furniture?”

It was a joke, he knew it was a joke, but that didn’t stop the blush on Gavin’s cheeks or his desperate move to sit up. He hoped to God his erection wasn’t showing as he jumped up and dashed out of the living room as fast as his battered spine would let him. Gavin didn’t dare look back.

He knew he loved Geoff’s touches too much, and indulging would get him in trouble. Geoff would surely guess the problem, he would know what Gavin was doing. It was all over. Goodbye to the little pets and cuddling on the couch. Goodbye to the wrestling and roughhousing. Goodbye to the only thing Gavin could take solace in when he watched Geoff go to bed with his wife.

The slam of his bedroom door rung through the house. Tears covered his face. Gavin slid to the floor and curled in on himself.

A knock sounded shortly. “Go away,” he said, voice catching.

“Gavin?” Geoff was worried, muffled on the other side of the door. “What the fuck was that?” he followed, when Gavin refused to answer.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit,” Geoff spat. “I ask if you’re okay and you run off? Tell me what’s wrong.”

Take the cowards’ way out, Gavin thought. “You hurt my bruise. That’s all.”

“As if, you got upset.” No fooling Geoff, unfortunately. “Was it what I said? I’ve made jokes about jerking it a thousand times.”

Not while massaging him. Gavin swallowed the embarrassed cry that wanted to come out. “Just leave me alone.”

No answer. After a few minutes, he heard footsteps walking away. Gavin relaxed against the door, no longer crying but unwilling to move. He stared at the ceiling and thought the incident over, reliving the moment he ran away and if Geoff would understand why.

Eventually, he got up. Sulking fixed nothing, and if he were honest with himself, he blew the whole thing a bit out of proportion. He opened the door and trudged down the hall, the bruise on his back stinging as he walked.

Geoff sat on the couch with a fresh beer. He laid his head on the back when Gavin came in, looking at him upside down over the edge. “Hey, there he is. Are you feeling better?”

Nothing bad so far. No blow up about how Gavin was getting off on their contact. He dropped on the couch, at the far end from his housemate, and curled his feet up. “Not really,” he muttered, staring at the television.

Geoff sipped his drink. “You want me to finish that massage?”

Gavin looked at him, eyebrows up in surprise. “Um, you want to?”

“Eh.” He shrugged. “I _was_ the one who left the controller out after I dropped it. And you ran off before. If there’s one thing Geoff Ramsey does, it’s finish the shit I started.”

Gavin had to snort. “I could name about a thousand games that say otherwise.”

“Shut up!” Geoff put a hand to his shoulder and shoved him down. “Get on your stomach and let me finish what I was doing, fucktard.” He pressed hard and forced Gavin to twist over, halfway between his front and his side.

“Geoff!” Gavin laughed and struggled, but as soon as Geoff set his drink down, he’d won, trapping Gavin under his grip, one hand on his spine and the other kneading the heel of his palm on the injury, gentle despite the force with which he held him. Gavin settled down, still giggling.

“And,” Geoff said as he worked, “next time you get a boner, let me know so I can stay the fuck away while you take care of it.”

Gavin glanced over his shoulder, horrified. Geoff just grinned and focused on the massage.

He groaned and buried his face in his arms as blood rushed to his face in another blush. Maybe Geoff wasn’t as disgusted as Gavin thought, and maybe Gavin could continued to enjoy his little touches.

But there was no way Geoff would let him live this down.


End file.
